Ghost Blades by Anthony Masters

Author:Anthony Masters
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2013-09-17T04:00:00+00:00

Six

Slowly the bedroom reformed itself. Joe sat grinning on his rumpled comic-strewn bed, still laughing in his awful muddle of a prison. The football bounced itself back into a corner, while Terry clambered to his feet, bruised and shaken.

‘I can make that ball do things,’ said Joe. ‘It’s my weapon. Useful, isn’t it? I can do other things too,’ he added, but now his eyes were full of tears. ‘I can see the past. Or some of it. But it frightens me, and afterwards – when I’ve looked back – I get really tired and I have to rest for a while.’ Joe paused. ‘Something happened,’ he said. ‘Something frightening, but I don’t fully understand what.’ He paused and looked more hopeful. ‘Maybe you will.’ He closed his eyes and the room moved with a life of its own, shifting restlessly like an ocean. A cold wind sent the football rolling across the floor and Joe and the mess in his bedroom began to shimmer.

Clothes drifted back into cupboards, the bed made itself, the mountain of comics rose in the air and sorted themselves into a tidy pile on the floor. The miniature cars and race track flew on to the shelf, the half-finished jigsaw took itself to pieces and drifted into a chest, closely followed by the cricket ball and stumps. The darts board straightened itself up and Joe got into bed. He slept.

Then Terry watched the bedroom door slowly open.

A middle-aged woman quietly came in and went over to Joe. Although her clothes were out-dated she was beautiful, tall and elegant, wearing a long dress. A man in a dark suit quietly followed.

Joe’s mother put a finger to her lips and leant over her son, kissing his cheek.

‘God bless,’ she said. ‘Sleep tight.’

‘Don’t forget to leave the light on, Mum,’ he muttered, waking but still half asleep.

‘Of course I won’t. Do I ever?’

His parents crept out, gently closed the door and Joe turned over, snuggling down again.

Terry didn’t want to watch any more because he was sure something dreadful was going to happen. This was much worse than the ghostly bullying, but he had to stay now, had to be with Joe while the terrible thing happened.

Thunder began to grumble outside and lightning flashed. Terry could dimly hear the murmur of voices downstairs and the radio was playing a song he recognised:

Smile when you feel like crying,

Laugh when you feel like dying …

Never had Joe’s room seemed so terrifying, but Terry knew he had to be beside him, knew he had to understand.

Thunder growled again but Joe slept on. The room was almost completely silent except for the distant sounds of life downstairs.

Then suddenly the plug in the wall socket began to crackle, throwing out sparks and then little darts of blue flame. To Terry’s horror, the darts became tongues, leaping at the carpet with a little spluttering sound. Slowly the material ignited and dense black smoke billowed towards Joe’s bed.

Terry wanted to wake him, to stop it all happening, but he knew he couldn’t.

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